Crossing To Paradise

Crossing To Paradise by Kevin Crossley-Holland Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: Crossing To Paradise by Kevin Crossley-Holland Read Free Book Online
Authors: Kevin Crossley-Holland
Tags: Fiction
skills of the Saracens,” volunteered Everard, “and their famous singing teachers. Who has not heard of Ziryab?”
    No one had heard of Ziryab, not even Lady Gwyneth.
    â€œAnd Lady Gwyneth has charged me with a duty,” Everard said in a solemn voice. “To teach Gatty how to sing.”
    â€œIndeed I have!” Lady Gwyneth said.
    â€œFa…Sol…La…,” sang Everard, and he waved to Gatty to join in.
    â€œLa-a-a-a-a,” sang Gatty.
    â€œGo on,” said Everard, “and on and on and on and on…”
    â€œA…a…a…a…a…a…”
    â€œOn!”
    Gatty coughed. “Can’t,” she gasped. Her eyes were bright with excitement. “I haven’t got no more breath.”
    â€œYou must learn to breathe properly,” Everard told her.
    â€œNow then, Nest,” Lady Gwyneth said. “What about you? Why are you making this pilgrimage?”
    Nest put her forefingers to her temples and slowly shook her head. “I have such a terrible headache, my lady.”
    â€œYou must tell us later then,” Lady Gwyneth said kindly. “Who is left? Austin?”
    â€œBy enduring this pilgrimage, with all its slings and arrows, we commend ourselves to God,” said the priest gravely. “I, too, long to see the places and touch the walls and walk the ways I’ve heard about and read about and preached about.”
    â€œAmen,” said Lady Gwyneth. “Well now, Gatty, what about you?”
    Gatty heard Lady Gwyneth’s question in her gut.
    â€œWell?” asked Lady Gwyneth.
    Gatty took a deep breath and combed her golden curls with her fingers. “I want to see where Jesus was born,” she sang out, “and…and I’m going to strike sparks for you.”
    Lady Gwyneth smiled. “I’m sure you are, Gatty,” she said.
    â€œI didn’t use to think Jerusalem was further than Chester.”
    Nakin shook his head at how anyone could know so little. His dewlaps wobbled.
    â€œI didn’t know it was across the sea,” Gatty said.
    After finishing their bread and drinking water from their leather flasks, the pilgrims continued their journey, and their first exhilaration wasshadowed by uncertainty, then by tiredness. Only Gatty, on her way north to Ewloe, and Emrys and Nakin had traveled such a distance in one day before.
    â€œThe way to think of the journey,” Nakin told them, “is in parts. This first from Ewloe to London is on foot, and that’ll take nine days.”
    â€œNine days!” exclaimed Nest.
    â€œWith a following wind!” said Nakin.
    â€œAnd after that we’ll have our horses,” Lady Gwyneth said. “Nakin, how long with horses from London to Sandwich?”
    â€œThree days,” replied Nakin.
    â€œYou see, Nest?” said Lady Gwyneth. “A journey in parts. And remember, each mile brings us a little nearer to Jerusalem, and to Paradise too.”
    â€œHow many calves’ tails do you need to climb from earth to heaven?” Gatty asked.
    â€œCalves’ tails,” Lady Gwyneth repeated. “I don’t know!”
    â€œOne,” said Gatty. “One if it’s long enough. That’s a Christmas riddle at Caldicot.”
    By the end of the afternoon, everyone was quite giddy with exhaustion. Half the time they laughed at riddles as simple as Gatty’s, and horsed about, and half they didn’t really want to talk at all.
    Not long before dark, the pilgrims reached the hostelry at Whitchurch, as Nakin had predicted. Its earth-walls were grey; the thatch was grey. Its shoulders were lopsided and it kept its head well down.
    â€œPlease go in and check there are no fleas,” Lady Gwyneth told Nakin.
    â€œThere’s nowhere else to stay,” Nakin replied. Still, he ducked his head and went in, and before long reported, “No fleas. Only rats and mice!”
    To begin with, each day was

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