The Book of Lies by James Moloney Read Free Book Online Page A

around past the blackberries and the oak trees, but once we reach the gate it’s out on to the road and across the bridge into Fallside. See the steeple of the church?” he said, pointing in case Marcel was left in any doubt. “That will make it a real steeplechase,” he joked.
    “Into the village!” cried Marcel. He turned and found his own alarm mirrored in the faces of his friends.
    “Marcel, you can’t ride into Fallside!” Hugh reminded him in a whisper.
    Marcel ignored him, just as he was trying to ignore his memories of yesterday and that fearful roar from the tower. “We can’t let Fergus get the better of us,” he declared, clamping his teeth together. He hoped this made him look determined, because inside he was quivering like a leaf in a gusty breeze.
    Fergus saw their indecision and seized his chance. “I’m not waiting any longer. The race has started.”
    “No!” Marcel shouted angrily, but Fergus had already spurred his horse away from the stable and all he could do was stand and watch as it galloped towards the orchard. How would he ever beat Fergus now? They still hadn’t managed to get a saddle on to Gadfly.
    “It’s all right,” he cooed, hoping to calm the restless mare. He tried to stroke that proud nose but she pulled her head away and shot him an exasperated glare, as though she were growing impatient with the boys’ ineptitude. “You know this is a race, don’t you,” he said to her, “but until we can get this saddle on your back, we can’t go anywhere.”
    The mare rolled her eyes again and walked a few anxious paces in the direction of the orchard. Was it his imagination, or was she looking for Fergus to see how much ground they would have to make up? “Hugh, Dominic. Help me up.”
    “You can’t ride her bareback! It’ll be hard enough with a saddle!”
    He ignored them, and this time Gadfly seemed ready to oblige. After a little heaving and grunting, he was on her back, but before he had a chance to catch his breath she lurched into a gallop. He held on to her matted mane as if he were clutching at life itself. If he fell, it would be the end of him.
    They charged towards the orchard, scattering aside the ducks and geese near the pond, then followed the chestnut stallion’s path between the wall and the blackberry canes, until they were climbing a gentle slope. Marcel began to get the hang of things, working into the rhythm of Gadfly’s movement instead of against it. Exhilaration replaced fear and he told himself, I can do this! Maybe I have ridden a horse before.
    Was that Fergus in the distance, approaching the gate? Certainly they were closer, much closer than when they had first set out after him. They passed the two cows, who looked up, startled, from their grazing.
    “Come on!” he shouted to his mount. “We can win this yet.”
    A stand of oaks swallowed them up but Gadfly showed no signs of slowing down, not even for these thickly growing trees. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for her rider. He had grown more confident now, and sitting up to look for Fergus, he didn’t see the low branch reaching out through the shadows until it swept him from the horse’s back.
    Marcel found himself on his bottom amid a cloud of dust and despair. He heard hooves trotting towards him and wondered if Fergus had come back to gloat, but when he looked up he saw Gadfly glaring down at him in disgust.
    That look alone spurred him to his feet. This was a race, he reminded himself, and if he didn’t win… He couldn’t bear to think of Fergus holding sway over the rest of them. He scrambled once more on to that twitching, restless back and the horse did the rest, charging off again as she had from the start.
    They galloped across the grass in front of the house until the stone wall loomed ahead once more. He expected her to turn and follow the wall to the gate – but not Gadfly. There was no time for Marcel to think. The horse simply launched herself into the