The Dark Horse

The Dark Horse by Marcus Sedgwick Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: The Dark Horse by Marcus Sedgwick Read Free Book Online
Authors: Marcus Sedgwick
Tags: Fiction
grimly. At least there was the strong Thorbjorn, with his smith’s hammer, standing nearby.
    “My noble lord,” the man tried again, “I am a simple traveler; I mean no harm.”
    “What is your name, stranger? Where are you from?”
    “From the south. A city far to the south. Skerry. No doubt a lord as great as yourself will have heard of it?”
    Horn swayed on his feet a little.
    “Of course,” he said after a moment.
    “Great Lord, my name is Ragnald. I am a simple traveler and was caught in a shipwreck not far down the shore from here.”
    He paused. Mouse watched as Horn and Ragnald sized each other up. Surely the stranger could tell Horn was drunk?
    “My noble lord, I mean no harm. I found the boy—”
    “The boy!” Horn said suddenly, finding something he could threaten the man with. “What did you do to the boy? You would harm one of my people?”
    He took an unsteady, though menacing, step toward Ragnald. He was still waving his sword stump.
    “No,” said Ragnald, “I found him. Indeed, I saved him. Why would I bring him back here if I meant him ill? Your Lordship is wise to mistrust a stranger,” he added quickly.
    Horn thought about this.
    “What,” he said eventually, “are you doing here?”
    For the first time the newcomer was short of words.
    “I . . . am a . . . an entertainer,” he said after a pause. “Yes! I have entertained many people in many lands, across all the seas and islands. The poor and the weak, the rich and the strong. Great rulers, like yourself. I have traveled far, and often I have exchanged a story or two for a bed. And now I find myself here. . . .”
    He smiled at Horn, but showing utmost respect.
    “I see,” said Horn uncertainly.
    “I don’t see,” said a voice from behind Mouse. Olaf pushed past her and strode out into the center of things. Murmurs spread through the crowd.
    Olaf walked right up to Ragnald, until his face was just a foot away from the white-haired man’s.
    “My boy is lying hurt in there,” said Olaf. “He will not wake. Just what happened? Tell me that!”
    But Horn regained his grip.
    “Olaf ! Get away! I am in charge here! Or would you like to take our friend’s place in the grain?”
    Some of Horn’s men closed around Olaf a little. He laughed at them, but he did as he was told.
    Horn turned back to the stranger. “You. Rag . . . ?”
    “Ragnald, my lord.”
    “Ragnald. What kind of entertainer are you?”
    “I am sorry to say that at present I am a very poor entertainer, for everything I need is contained in a box. A very special wooden box. I lost it when I was cast ashore. Have you, by any chance, seen such a thing?”
    The man gestured with his hands as he spoke. Now the shape they held, invisibly, was the box. Then he shrugged, his black palms up. As the people saw them they drew breath, wondering what disease or experience had caused this bizarre disfigurement.
    There was a long silence. People stared at Horn. Horn stared at his people.
    “No,” he said. “No, we have found nothing like that.”
    The man studied Horn’s face for a moment longer than perhaps he should have, but after a moment more he spoke.
    “Then I am a very poor entertainer indeed, for the box contains magics of all kinds, and without it I am nothing.”

27

    I can remember that I woke screaming.
    In my head I was back at the beach.
    I remember Mother came over and held me; Father crouched at the foot of my bed, staring at me. I can see myself now as the boy I was then, shivering with fear. How quickly I was to grow up!
    “Shhh,” said my mother. “Shhh, my boy.”
    After a while I stopped screaming. The beach seemed a little farther away, the beach with the black horses bearing down on me. . . .
    “What is it, Sig?” asked Mouse.
    She sat by me, waiting quietly.
    And so I told them all about the horses. I was ashamed because I’d been running away, and they knew that. It remained unspoken.
    One moment I had been walking along the beach.

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