Sworn Brother Read Online Free PDF Page A

that?’ He was growing even more angry, and I was worried that he would lose control and give me a beating. There was no answer to his question, so I kept silent.
    ‘Imbecile! Do you know what would have happened? The bird would have panicked, left its perch, thrashed around. Escaped or damaged itself. It’s in no condition to fly. And that bird, for your information, is worth ten times as much as you are, probably more, you miserable lout.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I recognised the bird and I’ve never seen them with their eyes sewn shut before.’
    My reply set him off again. ‘What do you mean “recognised?” he snarled. ‘There are no more than five or six birds like that in the whole of England. That’s a royal bird.’
‘Where I come from, there are quite a few.’
‘So you’re a liar as well as a thief.’
    ‘No, believe me. I come from a place where those birds build their nests and raise their young. I only entered the shed to look for you, if you are Edgar, because I was told to find him and report to him for work.’
    ‘I asked for a kennelhand, not a thieving Dane with sticky fingers like all the rest of them. I can recognise your ugly accent,’ he growled. ‘Get on your feet,’ and he let loose a kick to help me up. ‘We’ll soon learn whether you’re telling the truth.’
    He marched me back to the burh and checked my story with Aelfgifu’s harassed steward. When the steward confirmed who I was, Edgar spat deliberately — the gob of spittle just missed me — and announced, ‘We’ll see about that then.’
    This time we returned to the kennels and Edgar lifted the latch on the low gate which led into the dog-run. Instantly a hysterical brown, white and tan cascade of tail-wagging confusion swirled forward and engulfed us. The dogs barked and howled, though whether with enthusiasm or hunger I could not tell. Some leaped up at Edgar in affection, others pushed and shoved to get closer, a few cringed back, or ran off into the corner and defecated in their excitement. The kennel smelled abominable, and I felt a sharp pain in my calf where one mistrustful dog had run round behind me to give me an experimental bite. Edgar was completely at ease. He plunged his hands into the heaving mass of dog flesh, petting them, rubbing ears fondly, calling their names, casually knocking aside the more exuberant animals which tried to leap up and lick his face. He was in his element, but for me it was a vision of the abyss.
‘This is where you will work,’ he said bluntly.
    I must have looked aghast, for he allowed himself the glimmer of a smile. ‘I’ll show you your duties.’ He crossed to the far side of the dog-run, where a long, low shed was built against the fence. He dragged open the ill-fitting door and we went inside. The interior was almost as bare as the hawk shed, only this time there was no sand on the earth floor and instead of bird perches, a wide wooden platform had been constructed down one side of the building. The platform was made of rough wooden planks, raised about a foot above the ground on short posts. Its surface was covered with a thick layer of straw, which Edgar pointed at. ‘I want that turned over daily, so that it’s well aired. Pick up any droppings and put them outside. When you’ve a sackful of turds, you’ll be carrying it to the tannery for the leather-makers. Nothing like a strong solution of dog shit to soften the surface of hides. Then every three days, when the straw is too soiled, you change all the bedding. I’ll show you later where to find fresh straw.’
    Next he pointed out three low troughs. ‘Keep these topped up with drinking water for the dogs. If they get fouled, you’re to take them outside and empty them — I don’t want the floor in here any more damp than it already is - then refill them.’ As he made his remark about the damp floor, he glanced towards a wooden post hammered into the ground about halfway along the shed. The post was