The Forest by Edward Rutherfurd Read Free Book Online Page B

argue about.
    “I wonder,” she said, after a pause, “if Hugh de Martell feels the same.”
    “Who knows.” He shrugged. “He doesn’t think like that.”
    No. His way, she imagined, was more blunt. A proud Norman landholder had no time for such thoughts.
    “He didn’t think I should be hunting. I expect your father agrees.”
    “My mother and my father used to ride out hunting together,” he said softly, “when she was alive.” And instantly she had a vision of that handsome couple, sweeping beautifully through the forest glades. “One day,” Edgar added gently, “I hope to do the same.” And then with a laugh: “Come on. We’ll ride back along the heath.”
    So it was, a little time afterwards, that the two riders cantering along the short turf at the heath’s edge approached the hamlet of Oakley and came upon Godwin Pride, moving his fence, illegally, in broad daylight.
    “Damn,” muttered Edgar under his breath. But it was too late to avoid the fellow now. He had caught him in the act.
    Godwin Pride drew himself up to his full height: with his broad chest and splendid beard, he looked like a Celtic chief facing a tax collector. And, like a good Celtic chief, he knew that when the game was up, the only thing to do was bluff. To Edgar’s enquiry – “What are you doing, Godwin?” – he therefore replied imperturbably: “Repairing this fence, as you see.”
    It was so quietly outrageous that, for a moment, Edgar almost burst out laughing; but unfortunately this was not a laughing matter. “You’ve moved the fence.”
    Pride considered thoughtfully. “It used to be further out,” he said coolly, “but we pulled it back years ago. Didn’t need so much space.”
    The cheek of the man was breathtaking.
    “Nonsense,” Edgar said sharply. “You know the law. It’s a
purpresture
. This can land you in court.”
    Pride gazed at him as he might have looked at a fly before swatting it. “Those are Norman words. I wouldn’t know what they mean. I expect you would, though,” he added.
    The thrust went home. Edgar coloured. “It’s the law,” he said sadly.
    Godwin Pride continued to stare him down. He didn’t dislike Edgar personally, but the Saxon noble’s co-operationwith the Normans seemed to him proof that Edgar was an outsider.
    Not that Cola’s family were strangers. But when had they come to the Forest? Two hundred, three hundred years ago? The Forest folk could not remember. However long they had been there, anyway, it was not long enough. And Pride was reminding himself of this fact when, to his surprise, the Norman girl spoke.
    “But it wasn’t the Normans who started it. This land was under forest law back in the days of King Canute.”
    Adela’s Anglo-Saxon had been good enough to follow most of the conversation. She had not liked the surly way in which this fellow had treated Edgar and, as she was a Norman noblewoman, she decided to put him in his place. Brutal though he could be, William the Conqueror had been clever enough always to show that he was following ancient customs in his troublesome new kingdom. So it was no use this peasant complaining. She stared at him defiantly.
    To her surprise, however, he only nodded grimly. “You believe that?”
    “There’s a charter, fellow.” She spoke with some importance.
    “Oh. Written, is it?”
    How dare the man use this tone of irony? “Yes, it is.” She was rather proud that she could read quite well and had a little learning. If a clerk had taken her through a charter, she would have been able to follow.
    “Don’t read, myself,” he replied with an impertinent smile. “No point.” He was right, of course. A man could farm, operate a mill, run a great estate – why, even be a king – and have no need to read and write. There were always poor clerks to keep records. This intelligent smallholder had not the slightest reason to read. But Pride had not finished. “I believe there’s a lot of thieves who do,