The Marsh King's Daughter Read Online Free PDF Page A

the surroundings and secured them with several dead branches. Then, wiping his hands and smearing the blood, he stood back to consider the effect.
    It would do. To the casual observer there was nothing to see but a windblown thicket of trees winding back from the poolside, and he would be back on the morrow to claim his prize. He glanced around, to make sure of his bearings, and then began to walk towards the sound of bleating.
    It was hard to place one foot in front of the other for his legs would no longer obey the command of his will. He tried counting his paces, but he was so cold, so exhausted, that his mind refused to keep a tally.
    'Ready to give up yet, boy?'
    'Not while there's breath in my body,' he gasped through his teeth.
    'Won't be long then,' said his father's spectre cheerfully. His garments were as wet as Nicholas's own and he wore a shimmering necklace of seaweed. There was a huge, sea-washed wound in his side. 'Listen, they are tolling your death knell.'
    In the distance Nicholas thought he heard a church bell, as loud and real as his father's voice.
    Then he thought nothing at all as his legs gave way and the ground rose up to welcome him in the dark grave of its embrace.
     

    'Child, you do naught but harm by this wayward behaviour.'
    Mother Hillary, Abbess of St Catherine's-in-the-Marsh, sighed wearily and folded her gnarled hands on the trestle before her. At her back, the open shutters admitted misty October light to her private chamber. A grey cat, the abbey's prize mouser, was coiled around the heavy candelabra on the table.
    Miriel bit her lip. A trace of defiance lingered in her honey-brown eyes. 'I did not mean to cross Sister Euphemia. I was angry and the words came out by themselves.' Which was only half true. There was no doubt in Miriel's mind that Sister Euphemia was a carping hag whom no one with half a wit would have put in charge of the novices, but that was where the opinion should have remained - in her mind, not blurted out in front of the other five horrified but delighted young oblates.
    'No, child, the words came out by your will. You have to take the responsibility.' Mother Hillary bestowed a stern glance. 'You must learn to curb your anger and submit to the rule.'
    Miriel lowered her gaze from the Abbess's severe expression and stared at the handsome tiled floor. Asking why was not advisable. In the five months since arriving at St Catherine's, she had learned that questioning the rule led to harsh bread and water penances, supervised with relish by Sister Euphemia, who was so padded with flesh that it was obvious she had never done a penance in her life. 'Yes, Mother Hillary,' she murmured, with a detectable lack of grace.
    'Your life would be much easier if you would only try.' The nun leaned forward to emphasise her point. Although she was approaching her seventieth winter, her light blue eyes were sharp and clear. 'You came to us in the spring, Miriel, and we welcomed you with open arms. Now autumn is upon us and you have scarce progressed at all. You fidget at prayers when your mind should be upon Our Lord; you shout in the cloister and disturb the other sisters with your worldliness. You say that you "do not mean" these things, that you will strive to improve, but I have seen little evidence in your attitude.'
    Miriel gazed at the painted clay tiles. They bore the armorial device of the Earls of Lincoln in red and white slip. It was easier to look at them than meet Mother Hillary's incisive gaze, for Miriel knew that once again she had failed the senior nun's expectations.
    Despite her hatred of convent life, Miriel liked and respected the Abbess. Mother Hillary was strict, but generally fair, and behind the stern facade lay a softening of kindness. If all the others had been cast in her mould, Miriel might have been more tractable, but greedy sows like Sister Euphemia only fuelled her rebellion. Miriel always left the Abbess's chamber with a boosted determination to rise