Cloud Walker, All Fools' Day, Far Sunset by Edmund Cooper Read Free Book Online Page B

old, very old. The neddies, of necessity, permitted the use of printing machines – but only for the dissemination of approved sacred texts. Here were books that dealt not only with the works and life of Ned Ludd but also with all manner of recondite themes.
    Mistress Alyx took much time to change into her riding apparel. While he was alone, Kieron began to examine the books. Many of them were immensely old, their bindings nibbled by mice, their papers brown and speckled with the ravages of time. There were works of biography – the lives of the seigneurs of Arundel, and many others – works of history, works concerning the skills of warfare, fanning, hunting; works concerning voyages of discovery, the establishment of trade with far countries; works concerning the study of the stars. And there was one thin, incredibly tattered, incredibly ancient book about the development of infernal machines – including flying machines.
    Kieron pored over it greedily. Some of the words were hard, some incomprehensible. Nevertheless, it began to yield information – about people with strange names, who had accomplished strange things, such as the Brothers Montgolfier, Otto Lilienthal, Santos Dumont – until Mistress Alyx returned.
    Guiltily, Kieron closed the book and pushed it back into its place on the shelves.
    ‘Boy, did I give you permission to examine my father’s books?’
    ‘No, Mistress Alyx.’
    ‘Then do not presume. Come, we will ride.’
    ‘I cannot ride, Mistress.’ Kieron had never felt less like attempting to mount a horse.
    ‘You will ride, boy. It is my wish.’ Alyx had the air of one anticipating much amusement.
    The episode was doomed – as Mistress Alyx had intended. She had an old mare saddled for Kieron; so old and so gentle, she told him, that a child barely able to walk would be assured of a safe ride. For herself, Alyx chose a fine, spirited hunter.
    Having had the grooms hoist Kieron more or less bodily into the saddle, Alyx led the way, allowing her horse to amble down the hill from the castle and among the cluster of houses that marked the growing township. Kieron followed as best he could, his teeth rattling somewhat in his head, and his bottom rising from the saddle and hitting it again somewhat heavily.
    People looked up as Mistress Alyx rode by. Women curtsied, men touched their hats. They marvelled indeed to see that she was accompanied by Kieron the prentice boy, and were amused at his obvious discomfiture. Petrina saw him struggling anxiously to retain his seat, and could not repress a smile. Two or three idle apprentices made so bold as to cheer.
    Once Arundel was behind, Alyx allowed her horse to canter. The open grazing land was still soggy from the rain, but the going was not too bad. Except for Kieron. Independent of anything he might do, the old mare seemed to take guidance from the hunter – or secretly from Mistress Alyx.
    Soon Kieron had abandoned the reins and was hanging on desperately to his poor animal by its mane. Inevitably, he fell off.
    Mistress Alyx had chosen to ride by the bank of the river Arun, now swollen with the rains. It was a cunning choice; for when Kieron became unseated there was an even chance that he would fall on the river side.
    Ludd was not with him, and he did. He fell into a large patch of mud, taking much of the fall upon his shoulder and the rest upon his backside as he rolled over. It was worse than a body slam at wrestling on the green.
    Alyx laughed heartily. ‘So, prentice, your horsemanship is the equal of your limning. Mount again, boy. Do not look so dazed. I do not choose to wait here for ever.’
    Kieron mounted, somehow. Aching and bruised, he managed to get back on to the mare. He did not stay in the saddle for long. The next time, however, he had the good sense to fall not on the river side but on the pasture side. It hurt more, but there was no mud. He got to his feet, shaking and aching. Blindly, he tried to get back into the