Shadow of the Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page B

squeaking noise was their lantern, swinging on its chain.
    ‘Someone’s coming!’ he hissed.
    Marian darted up the stairs and came quickly to his side. ‘It’s Bawg,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t make a sound.’
    Mistress Bawg was an enormous woman, her breasts and stomach wobbling as she walked. Her lantern squeaked on its chain. In the other hand swung a wicker basket.
    ‘Lady Marian,’ she called. ‘I know you’re in there, you may as well show yourself. No reason we shouldn’t be civil. A girl like you, the way you were raised, and no more manners than a scullion. No? Very well then, if you’re still intent on your little game, no harm in it I suppose, while your father’s away. But be warned, Father Titus is on the warpath, it’s been solong since he’s seen you – I hope for your sake all that Latin hasn’t seeped out of that pretty little head. And understand this, once I’m sleeping there’ll be no second chance – you’ll get no hot bath or warm bed – you’ll be on your own till morning. Very well then, I’m going, don’t say I didn’t try. I’ll leave this here, though it’s more than you deserve. There’s enough for your new friend, should you feel like sharing. And now I’m going, goodbye, I’m not standing out here all night in the cold …’ She waddled away, leaving the basket sitting on the ground.
    ‘Leave it,’ Marian said. ‘It’s a trap, trying to lure us out.’
    They went back into the sleeping chamber. Robin charred the end of a stick in the fire and they used it to draw games of Nine Man Morris on a bare patch of floor. They turned to other games and distractions, trying to ignore the parcel. But it was impossible. Their curiosity burned. Finally Marian went to the window to keep watch while Robin crept down and retrieved the basket. Inside was a loaf of rye bread and two tubs of jam and a pot of honeyed figs. They sat by the fire and shared this night-time breakfast.
    ‘Bawg is still our enemy, never forget,’ Marian said, between mouthfuls. ‘No matter what bribes she brings. Anyway, we don’t need her help. I know a secret way into the pantry and the kitchens. We’ll feast like a king and queen, you’ll see.’
    ‘And we can go to Summerswood,’ Robin said. ‘Set traps and hunt. I can show you how, if you want.’
    Marian wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing jam across her cheek. ‘Yes, that’s exactly what we’ll do. I want you to show me which plants are good to eat, and how to read claw prints, and all the rest of it. In return I will teach you to speak French.’ She sat up straight and adopted a serious expression. ‘You and I are the same, Robin Loxley, I knew that the moment we met. No one else cares about us,even if they pretend they do. We will survive, and prosper, but we must be quick and brave and clever.’
    She turned her attention once more to the grimoire. She pointed at a page. ‘Here’s an unction called “night owl”. The perfect thing for us. It helps you see in the dark. We need hart’s tongue fern, do you know where that grows?’
    Robin nodded.
    ‘And devil’s berries. What are they?’
    ‘The fruit of deadly nightshade. There are hundreds in Hob’s Hollow. I can show you tomorrow.’
    ‘Let’s go now,’ she said, jumping up. ‘There’s a moon to see by, look, and there are no prying eyes. Prowling time for the hobgoblins!’
    She scampered from the tower and slipped out of the manor, Robin close behind. He took her to Hob’s Hollow, and then to Summerswood, collecting all the ingredients for her concoction.
    They looked around for what to do next. Robin pointed towards Wodenhurst and they went back up the valley and crept into the darkened village.
    Robin led the way to the orchards. In the moonlight the apples shone like silver coins. They went from tree to tree, plucking the fruit. They jumped at every rustling of a branch, but the villagers went on sleeping, and Marian went on grinning, and