The Marus Manuscripts by Paul McCusker Read Free Book Online

hands together. Kyle assumed it was Michelle. The king raised his arms, and the people got to their feet again with shouts, chants, stomping feet, and clapping hands. The roar of the ocean could not have been heard in that hall, Kyle thought.
    But Kyle couldn’t take his eyes off the king. For all the bravado and praise, Kyle thought that he looked like a very unhappy man.

T he Old Judge helped Anna into his horse-drawn wagon. He gave her some fruit to eat and then told her to rest while they drove to his cottage in the small village of Hailsham, several miles from the capital. Resting was easy; it was a glorious summer’s day. Anna stretched out to greet the warmth of the sun, which somehow seemed bigger here, and let it soak into her body. She still hadn’t gotten over the dampness of the dungeon. She dozed for a while and only woke up when the wagon wheel bumped a large rock on the unpaved road.
    Anna yawned and looked around. Shafts of light shone on the green hills and groves of trees and highlighted the village of Hailsham, which, as she now saw, sat in the center of a valley. It was composed mostly of a small cluster of shops and offices and a few cottages sprinkled around the outskirts. Nearby, the railroad track cut like a scar into one of the hillsides. Somehow it didn’t take away from the beauty, though. The whole scene looked to Anna like the kind of village you’d find on a picture postcard of New England.
    The Old Judge’s cottage sat between a field and a forest. It was a simple building, mostly white except for dark beams of timber that ran from the thatched roof to the ground. The leaded windows were shuttered and had window boxes filled with flowers of all kinds. Roses, carnations, pansies—Anna couldn’t name them all. When Anna and the Old Judge had climbed out of the wagon, he lifted the latch on the heavy brown door and invited her in.
    The main room had dark paneling, a fireplace, and two comfortable-looking chairs sitting on a colorful carpet. Off to one side were a large hutch and several bookcases filled with books of all kinds. A grandfather clock watched them indifferently, its arm swinging from left to right and back again.
    A second room served as the kitchen, with a stove, sink, and open cupboards containing a modest array of dishes and food containers. Anna noted three doors leading to what she guessed were the bedrooms. The main room was naturally cool since the trees from the forest blocked the sun when it was at its highest point. She sighed contentedly. It might have been the most charming place she’d ever seen in her young life.
    “After I take care of the horses and wagon, I’ll make us some tea, and then we’ll have a little chat,” the Old Judge said. He went to put the wagon in his small barn and unhitch the horses to run in the field.
    Anna sat down in one of the chairs and glanced at the clock. It was 3:02. Without meaning to, she fell asleep again. When she awoke, a small fire was crackling in the fireplace, and the Old Judge was reading a book in the chair across from her. “I’m sorry,” Anna said sleepily. “Did I sleep long?”
    The Old Judge closed his book and peered at her over his reading glasses. “Not long,” he said.
    She glanced at the grandfather clock. It said it was 5:17. “Oh,” she said, sorry to have slept for more than two hours.
    The Old Judge pointed to a cup and saucer and plate on the end table next to her. “I made you a fresh cup of tea,” he explained, “and there are some pastries for you to munch on.”
    She thanked him and devoured the pastries. She had forgotten how hungry she was. When she finished eating, she still felt hungry and wondered when dinner would be.
    “Would you like more?” the Old Judge asked. “Are you still hungry?”
    Her parents had taught her that asking for more was rude, whether one was hungry or not. “I’m okay, thank you,” she said.
    “I don’t think you’re being honest with me,” the old