The Forest by Edward Rutherfurd Read Free Book Online Page B

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-operation with 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 started 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, though,’ he calmly added.
    By God the man was insulting. She looked to Edgar, expecting him to defend her, but he seemed embarrassed.
    It was Pride who now addressed him. ‘I don’t remember hearing of any charter, do you, Edgar?’ He stared straight at his head.
    ‘Before my time,’ the Saxon answered quietly.
    ‘Yes. You’d better ask your father. He’d know about that, I should think.’
    There was a pause.
    Adela began to get the point. ‘Are you saying’, she asked slowly, ‘that King William lied about Canute’s forest law? That the charter’s a fake?’
    Pride pretended surprise. ‘Really? They can do that, can they?’
    She was silent herself, now. Then she nodded slowly. ‘I’m, sorry,’ she said simply. ‘I didn’t know.’ She looked away from him and her eyes rested upon the strip of ground he had just appropriated. She understood now. No wonder he was surly when they had caught him trying, legally or not, to claw back a few feet of the inheritance he considered had been stolen from him.
    She turned to Edgar. Then she grinned. ‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’ She spoke in French, but she suspected that Pride, observing them, had guessed what she had said.
    Edgar looked awkward. Pride was watching him. Then Edgar shook his head. ‘I can’t,’ he muttered in French. And to Pride, in his native tongue: ‘Put it back, Godwin. Today. I’ll be looking out for you.’ He motioned to her