Lady of Hay Barbara Erskine (reading books for 7 year olds TXT) 📖

greet her. She sighed, thinking of the poor scoundrel she had watched them drag away.

Slowly, with shaking steps, she made her way to the doorway and, clinging to the doorpost for support, looked out at the scene below her in the bailey. The open area between the walls of the keep and the outbuildings that clustered round the outer walls was full of men and horses. Her husband was the only man still mounted. She saw him at once, and near him a soldier on a ladder was easing a rope across a beam that jutted beyond the rough stones of the wall.

She could see no sign of the prisoner. William's face shocked her. It was cruelly twisted, full of hatred and malice, and though he looked straight at her, she knew that he hadn't seen her.

She glanced up, shuddering, at the serene sky and at the heavy fruit on the rowan tree growing in the bailey above the teeming, shouting men. The women of the castle had gathered together near the kitchens and gossiped quietly as they waited curiously, their eyes on the crowd of men. Matilda felt a touch on her arm. Margaret was standing behind her. "Come away, Mother. Don't watch. "

Matilda shrugged her off. "I've seen hangings before, child. I was looking for your father. "

A sudden noise, half shout, half sigh, made her turn back to the scene below. They had thrust the prisoner up onto the back of a raw-boned horse and were leading him beneath the noose. His face was covered in mud and blood, but as she glanced at him compassionately, Matilda suddenly gave a gasp.

"It's Trehearne Vaughan from Clyro! It's Trehearne, " she cried desperately. "Dear God, is William out of his mind? We've got to stop him. Margaret, help me quickly!" She pushed forward, gripping her daughter's arm.

"William, for Christ's sake, stop!" she screamed. "Don't do it! At least take time to decide—" But her cry was lost in the roar of the crowd as, with a thwack on its rump, the horse was sent careering across the cobbles, leaving Trehearne hanging from the beam. His legs kicked violently.

"Cut him down, for God's sake!" she screamed again above the noise of the crowd. "Oh, God! Oh, God, stop it! Save him!" She never knew how she found the strength to cross the bailey, but at last she was by her husband. "William, you can't know what you're doing!" She grabbed at his bridle and his horse reared back, its eyes wild. "Cut him down, for the love of God. " She groped at him frantically, her eyes blinded with tears.

William glanced down at her for a moment unseeing, his face a twisted mask, then suddenly he seemed to realize she was there as she pulled desperately at his mantle. He smiled, and abruptly she stepped back in fear. "Cut him down. A good idea. " He forced his plunging horse toward the man and sliced through the rope with one stroke of his sword. Trehearne fell to the cobbles and lay there twitching, his face swollen and purple beneath the mask of drying blood.

Looking down at him for a moment, William, in the expectant hush around him, suddenly laughed. "I think we'll have his head, " he said in a tone so quiet that Matilda scarcely heard it. He beckoned and two men-at-arms caught up the spasmodically jerking body and dragged it to the stone mounting block. There, at a nod from William, one of them struck off the man's head with one blow from his heavy two-edged sword. A great sigh ran round the bailey, followed by a yell and wild cheering.

All around her men and horses had begun to move again, the spectacle over. There was work to be done. Ignoring the fallen trunk of the man and the bloodied head that lay on the cobbles where it had fallen, William reined back his terror-stricken horse and rode past Matilda to the steps of the great hall. Dismounting, he flung his rein to a squire and stamped up into the doorway without a backward glance.

Matilda stood where she was in the middle of the bailey, holding Margaret's arm. The girl's face was white and Matilda could see the blue veins in her temples beating wildly. Swallowing with an effort the bitter bile that had risen in her throat, she began slowly to walk back toward the keep, consciously keeping her back straight, forcing her steps one by one as she leaned on Margaret's shoulder, feeling the curious glances being cast in her direction by the dispersing crowd.

Dai appeared as she reached the steps and, unceremoniously picking her up, carried her back to the chair by the hearth. William was pouring himself wine from the jug on the table.

"Fyng arglwyddes, may I have your permission to return to my hills?" She suddenly realized that Dai was kneeling before her, his face a pasty yellow. "I no longer wish to serve you. I'm sorry, meistress bach. Dioer, you were good to me indeed, you were, but I cannot stay. "

"I understand, Dai. " She sighed. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. "God go with you, my friend. "

She watched him stride toward the doorway, expecting him to turn, but he didn't. Neither did he so much as acknowledge William's presence standing behind them. He went out onto the steps without a backward glance and ran down out of sight.

Margaret pressed a goblet of wine into her hand. "Drink this, Mother, you look so pale. " She glanced apprehensively over her shoulder toward her father, but he continued to ignore them, pouring himself another goblet and emptying it down in one gulp.

Matilda turned and looked at him at last. "Did Trehearne really merit such high-handed, barbaric treatment, William?" she asked, her voice trembling.

He set down the goblet with a bang on the trestle. "In my opinion, madam, he did. "

"He seemed to be waiting for you at Aberhonddu. "

"We had arranged to