Shield of Three Lions Read Online Free PDF Page B

sharp? That it could cut Maisry’s skin to ribbons? Awful! Awful!
    “Oh, Maisry, sweet Jesus save you! Do you think you can walk?”
    I took her hand and looked into her face. ’Twas lying in the dirt in a position that never was, for her head was cut neatly off her shoulders!
    The last thud! While I’d waited, he’d drawn his sword across her throat! Or mayhap his sharp incubus! Everything blood. Maisry’s blood!
    “Aaaaaauuuuu!” ’Twas an inhuman howl and had come from my heart, for
I had done this!
I had forced Maisry to come on this pilgrimage! She hadn’t wanted to, had tried to dissuade me but I wouldn’t listen. Oh, my God, how can I bear it!
    I fell atop her mutilated body, still warm, the blood still warm. I would have kissed her dead face only it was detached, not there. Oh, surely ’tis a nightmare! This cannot be real! This blood, these tears, oh, God!
    No nightmare.
    I lay on her, my breath shallow. How can I face Dame Margery? How can I live with my guilt? How can I live without Maisry?
    Should I have come out when he said my name? Could I have saved her? Another guilt: aye, I could have offered myself for it was I he sought.
    With harsh sobs, I hugged her close, my smiling curly-mouthed Maisry gone forever. I prayed for her, talked to her, hoping her soul was still near. Gradually we grew cold together, she in her thickening blood, I in my ditch water. My teeth chattered and I listened to the heavy stillness around me.
    There above, the screech of a kite come to peck at Maisry, and I spread myself protectively over her. Then more silence.
    The drum in Dunsmere—when had it stopped? Where was the sun in its run? Had I been here long?
    I thought of the incubus-knight. He would have had time to get back to Dunsmere by now, to search for me, to ask people if they’d seen me with Maisry. Surely someone had and someone would talk when they heard that silver jingle. I sat up, my brown garb sticky with blood.
    The fields seemed different, ominous, evil. I
should have
saved Maisry, but soothly she had died to save me. Was I going to betray her sacrifice by becoming still another victim? Methought I heard hoofbeats though it could have been my own heart, but I knew I must get back to Wanthwaite.
    Quickly I bent over the dear tangled body to give it its last rites and ministrations. I said a fast prayer and blessed her on her journey, crossed her arms, arranged her head so it seemed to be part of her again, closed her eyes, weighted her kerchief across her face with a stone. From her clenched fist, I took the red ribbon for remembrance.
    Then I stood and got my bearings. Wanthwaite’s towers were visible to my left though a heavy cloud had settled on them while the sun, now small and pale as a sparrows egg, hung timelessly above. Grimly I picked a course along hedgerows in case I was forced to hide again.
    I wanted my mother.

THE CLOUD OVER WANTHWAITE WAS SMOKE.
    Dazed, I stood on the far side of the river and tried to understand. Flames still rose from the swaled bailey, but what was the damage behind? Heavy chains squeezed my heart so that each beat was painful, but I fought to keep a clear head. Surely the iron gatehad held, surely my father had long since returned and raised the moat bridge, surely all within were safe.
    Still, best be cautious.
    I dipped my headband in the water and tied it across my nose and mouth against the smoke, then began my slow ascent. No worm in the ground ever moved more invisibly than I did as I climbed through the hanger, flattening myself against one tree trunk after another, ever alert to human sounds or movements.
    My horse Justice was gone, and I trembled with fear. As I neared the palings, I relaxed my vigilance somewhat for the flames were still flickering and there was so much burning stuff on the ground that I had to keep my eyes low. Moreover I didn’t imagine anyone was lurking in the midst of the fire.
    At last I reached the moat, prepared to turn into the