Great Maria

Great Maria by Cecelia Holland Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: Great Maria by Cecelia Holland Read Free Book Online
Authors: Cecelia Holland
put her hands on him a dog snapped at her. William shouted to it. Her father moved under her hands. She remembered how he had reached for her rein, before Odo attacked them. He had known what was coming. The old man raised his head, groggy.
    “Papa.”
    She sat back heavily. Other horses were cantering toward them. She stared at her father, wondering who had felled him, Odo or Richard. The old man sat up, his head in his hands.
    Horses pushed up around them. Richard said, “Maria, get away from him.” She climbed slowly to her feet. Richard braced his hands on the pommel of his saddle. He was still breathing hard. Roger caught her mare and brought it over to her. Dismounting, he came to help her into the saddle.
    “You were very brave, Maria. They would have killed him if it hadn’t been for you.” He lifted her up on the mare’s back.
    She took hold of her saddle, dizzy. William and Roger got her father onto his horse. The two prisoners waited in the road, tied foot to foot. The ride back to the castle seemed long as a pilgrimage. She closed her eyes.
    “Why didn’t you take Odo alive?” William called.
    “He wouldn’t let me,” Richard said. She started at the close sound of his voice, opening her eyes; he had come up right beside her.
    “A pity,” William said.
    They started along the road again, the two prisoners striding awkwardly along ahead of them. William led her father’s horse. The old man sagged in his saddle. The wind rose. Richard kept glancing at Maria’s father.
    “Damned dirty old pig, you couldn’t even do this well.”
    Maria was still holding onto her horse’s mane. She stared straight up the road. She imagined what would have happened to her and her baby if Odo had killed Richard.
    “How many were there?” Richard asked.
    “Five,” Roger said. “Not counting—” he nodded toward her father. His horse trotted a few steps to catch up with Richard’s. “You think he was in it with Odo?”
    Richard said nothing. They rode up around the shoulder of the hill. Above them was the castle. She held onto her saddle with both hands. The two men they had taken prisoner lagged on the steep slope, and Richard’s horse trod on one of them. They skipped quickly out into the open road again.
    The ward of the castle was crowded with men: the rest of the knights, standing around in the dark. “Look at this,” William said. His voice rang in the silence. “All out to see which side came back riding.”
    Maria stopped her mare. Two of the men waiting in the dark came up to hold her bridle and she backed the horse away from them. Richard was giving orders. No one paid any more heed to her. She slipped down from her saddle. Her legs trembled and she held onto her stirrup.
    “William,” Richard said; he rode up beside her. “Lock the old pig up—find a good strong lock.” He dismounted. His arm went around her waist. “Come on—are you nailed to that saddle?”
    They went into the tower and up the stairs. Richard’s teeth were set. Once he put his hand to his head. In their room, he sat down on the bed; Roger went to stir up the fire.
    “Are you all right?” she said. “Let me see.” She made him turn his head so that she could see the lump swelling up fat above his temple. His scalp had split open and his face was covered with blood.
    “You’re very lucky,” Roger said. “You’re a damned lucky man.” He brought him a cup of wine.
    “Oh,” Richard said. “I move fast when something is aimed at my head.”
    There was water beside the bed. Maria got linen and washed his face off. Roger talked cheerfully of the fighting. Richard answered him in monosyllables. There was a knock on the door.
    “Whoever that is,” Richard said, “I don’t want to see him.”
    Roger went over to the door, opened it a crack, and spoke through it. Maria washed out the linen. The water in the basin was stained with blood.
    “What will you do to my father?”
    He looked at her over his shoulder.

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