Silvermay by James Moloney Read Free Book Online Page A

weary figures made their way home to supper. Even the mean-eyed elders marvelled at his energy.
    It had been a good summer and, when the last of the grain had been threshed, our barns were full. They wouldn’t stay that way for long, I knew that by now, and, at sixteen, I was old enough to resent it as much as anyone. Like every other pair of eyes in Haywode, mine began to scan the road to the south, waiting. When would he come? How bad would it be this year?
    An answer to the first question came soon enough. ‘He’s here!’ cried a boy with sharper eyes than the rest of us.
    â€˜It’s as though he waits on the road, just out of sight,’ said my father as he hurried from the house.
    I watched from beside him as two riders led the way into the village, followed by a line of wagons. Two more men on fine horses eased along among the wagons, one on the far side, the other trailing behind the last. Of the leading pair, only one was armed: a large man with narrow, darting eyes who watched us cautiously as the richly dressed lord beside him approached the inn. The wagons were driven by labourers no different fromHaywode’s men who watched them enter the village with such sullen resignation.
    Father went closer to the road but I wasn’t left alone for long.
    â€˜Who are those men?’ asked Tamlyn, who had come down from yet another roof he was fixing.
    â€˜The one in the golden cloak is Religo Norbett,’ I told him. ‘He’s lord of our district, appointed by the king. His manor house is ten miles to the south, past Cricklethorn. He comes every year at the end of harvest to take our tribute.’
    â€˜Tribute?’ repeated Tamlyn.
    â€˜Yes, in grain and livestock. Some goes to the king; the rest he keeps for himself. A tax, he calls it, but my father calls it robbery.’
    â€˜So many wagons,’ said Tamlyn.
    I sniffed in disgust. ‘Yes, so many.’
    â€˜Who are the others?’ he asked.
    â€˜The big man next to him is the sentinel who guards Norbett in case anyone tries to harm him.’
    â€˜But there are fifty strong men in Haywode and none of them looks very pleased to see him,’ he commented. ‘They could overpower one man without any trouble.’
    â€˜Yes, that’s why the other two are here.’ I nodded towards the horsemen half hidden among the wagons. ‘With those two to protect him, there could be a hundredangry warriors in the village and Norbett would still be safe.’
    Tamlyn’s eyes sought them out quickly and watched until a single word escaped his lips. ‘Wyrdborn.’
    â€˜Yes, both of them,’ and though I had known it from the beginning, just hearing the word was enough to send an icy shiver through my blood.
    There was nothing in particular to distinguish the men from commonfolk or hint at the terrible powers they possessed. The one near the leading wagon had come last year; I remembered his dull grey vest and the insolent set of his face. The other simply looked bored.
    Word continued to spread — ‘He’s here, the wagons have come!’ — and, across the village, men were emerging from their homes. It was a tradition in Haywode that when Religo Norbett came with his wagons, the men of the village gathered near the inn and along the road in silent defiance. I’d never understood what good it did, since the lord took away whatever he wanted and no man ever lifted a hand to stop him.
    The women chased their children indoors. The tension I remembered so bitterly was building now that Norbett and his sentinel had dismounted at the inn and accepted the stiff courtesy of the elders. They led him inside, leaving the rest of us to wait while the list was negotiated. That list, tallied up while they sat aroundNettlefield’s table, would decide how much of our harvest was carried off by men who hadn’t lifted a finger to grow it.
    I went closer for a better view. Not too